Full Circle
by Robin4
Summary: When the Doctor's part-human, part-Time Lord duplicate turns out to be far different from what he expected, everything turns topsy-turvy. He intended to give Rose the world—instead, he left her with the darkest distillation of himself. Post Series 4 AU.
1. Chapter 1: Opposing Vectors

**Full Circle**

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**_Chapter 1: Opposing Vectors_**

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Had he known that three simple, little words would accomplish so much, he'd have done this a long time ago. She was his—all he had to do was tell the blonde _human_ (Rose, his memories told him; Rose who the Doctor so painfully loved) exactly what she wanted to hear, and it was done.

So simple, this. Uncomplicated and brilliant, just like the knowledge in tucked away in this part-human, mostly-Time Lord memory of his. Oh, it was brilliant.

And the Doctor, oh, the foolish, _well-meaning, _so-mournful Doctor had given him exactly what he needed to survive. To carry out his plans. To do everything that needed doing.

There is a little bit of coral resting in his pocket. Just enough to grow a TARDIS. It would take years, but he is patient. Years will also pass before he figures out how to not only breach the void between the universes, but how to also travel back to _before _the Time War, to do what needs to be done and become himself.

He'd sprung fully-formed into existence, after all. Been created when the so-good Doctor wasn't enough. He is a being formed of war and of battle, one forged to _take _what was his, consequences be damned. And he will. He'll never been any other type of man, even if he is and will be perfectly happy to use a variety of more subtle methods to achieve his ends.

If the Doctor had any idea what he'd created, he'd have never left the _other _him with his precious Rose.

The precious Rose that is smiling tentatively at this man who looks like her Doctor. Who even started as a duplicate of _her _Doctor, but with a little bit of human malice added in to reinvigorate the Time Lord psyche. She wants him so badly, and he'll play along for a little while. Let a few of her dreams come true before he tears them apart.

He has no intention of settling for _her _forever, after all. There are lives due him, and he intends to take them. He is a full Time Lord, even if he's not a "true" one—he'll readily acknowledge that he's missing some vital bits in terms of physiology and regenerations. But not too many years will pass before he's ready to claim his own.

Upon reflection, it is a pity that the first Doctors he encounters won't know Rose. Otherwise, he'd be sure to show her body to the Doctor after he kills her—a long and painful process that he's planning already, as he smiles and reassures her, and tells her that he's the same as the Doctor, just more human. Just more able to _love _her.

Perhaps he'll visit this Doctor before he slides into the past. Or perhaps he'll preserve Rose until he encounters a Doctor that knows her, for he already understands that he'll play a part in the Time War and _survive _it. There's a temptation to change the past, of course (there always is), but he can't jeopardize his own creation now that he knows how it happened.

So, he'll play the prosecutor and try the Doctor. He'll fight valiantly, and lose, and be discovered.

But then he'll slip in quietly and replace the Keeper of the Matrix, lying in wait until it's time to sell out the Time Lords to the Daleks—after all, what do they mean to him? He already knows that they must die for the requisite darkness to awaken in the Doctor, to cause the pain that makes him bitter and angry enough to become something _else_.

If not for a simple human, the Doctor might have done it himself. He finds it ironic that this Rose preserved timelines unwittingly: she pulled the Doctor back from the edge just in time. And if not for her, there would never have been a failed regeneration, never enough _life _to pour into that hand and breed something new. Perhaps he should be grateful to her. She's made it all possible.

And she's holding his hand as she smiles so brilliantly up at him. "You need a name, y'know." Her tongue is sticking out slightly from between her teeth, and the Doctor would melt to see her so happy. "You can't just use 'the Doctor' as a human."

He smiles brilliantly at her. "No, I can't, can I? Guess it'd be a wee bit noticeable, that."

"So…John Smith, is it?" Rose asks. "'S what you usually use."

"Valeyard." He squeezes her hand. "John…Valeyard."

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Author's Note: This story is complete, so my posting rate should be pretty quick. As always, I would love to know what you think of this labor of love, so please review!


	2. Chapter 2: Tangents

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Chapter 2: T****angents****

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It seemed that he wasn't the only one who couldn't quite reach the destination he intended. Or, strictly speaking, communicate with the correct time period—as a simple call didn't quite require precision TARDIS piloting.

A simple call, however, did require quite a bit of precision when placed between two TARDISes, both of which were traveling in the Time Vortex…or even two _separate _Time Vortices. From two different universes. Two completely different sets of time and space. The equations required to work _that _piece of work out were enough to make even a Time Lord's head spin, but with doorways open, anything was possible…

His mind refused to examine the second half of that last sentence. He was too busy leaping across the control room, his hearts bursting with happiness and excitement. _He'd _done it! Right or wrong choices made, hearts broken from leaving Rose behind, the other him had _done _it—he'd built a TARDIS from that tiny piece of coral the Doctor had left with him, and now he and Rose—

The face on the other end of the connection wasn't quite what he was expecting. Oh, of course it had been years on the other end—communications didn't quite cross time streams all that reliably—but he'd not expected the darker expression, the still cold eyes…and where was Rose?

The ecstatic greeting died on his lips. It was his face.

Except it _wasn't._

"Hello, Doctor," the cold voice said as the Doctor's eyes frantically scanned his doppelganger's surroundings. He was definitely inside a TARDIS, but not one of warm coral and friendly contours. That one was stark, impersonal. Dangerous. "I expect you're wondering exactly how long it has been since you abandoned me in this universe."

"Um…yeah. Something like that," he responded as casually as he could. "Certainly wondering, anyway. Always wondering, me."

The other Doctor hadn't said that he'd abandoned _them_. No mention of Rose. No sight of Rose. Nothing—_Rose._

His shirt was still wet from the rain; he'd not been in the Vortex long enough for it to dry. His coat and suit jacket were still soaked. The heartbreak was still so fresh that he could remember the feel of her hand in his, could remember—_Stop this! It's not helping!_

He thought he'd done the right thing. Been _convinced _that he was giving her the best he could of himself.

"I do believe that I will leave you to wonder about that one, my dear Doctor," the other him replied, smiling slightly. Nastily.

"Oh, but where's the fun in that? There's no adventure if you don't even give me a hint," the Doctor retorted. Just to buy time.

His clothing was dark. His eyes were icy, save for the pleasure in them—the pleasure this encounter was giving the other him. He was _savoring _this. Drawing it out. Making it last. Loving every cruel moment.

"I'm not looking for adventure," the older and darker him said softly. "I am only seeking to acquire what is rightfully mine."

He suddenly felt cold. "And what…exactly is that?"

"My life, Doctor. The one you took from me by dumping me in another universe, to be looked after and _fixed _like some broken toy. You simply assumed, as you always do, that you knew best, and that everything would turn out _exactly _as you envisioned it."

"I—"

He had no idea how he was going to object, only that he needed to.

"But I've settled things here. You need not worry. Your—"

_Click._

He withdrew his shaking hand from the button, having cut the connection before the sentence could be finished. The Doctor had a fairly good idea what the other him, the dark-and-corrupted him, was going to say. And he couldn't afford to let him say it. Absolutely couldn't.

The doors had been closing. But if the _other _him, the—he couldn't force his mind to think the name, but he knew exactly what it should be—if the other him could find an opening enough to communicate, there was every chance that the Doctor could, too.

Should he? Should he risk the collapse of two universes, all on a hunch? Maybe he was wrong. Maybe things _had _turned out all right, and the other him simply felt lingering anger over the Doctor's actions? Perhaps that sinking feeling in his stomach, the sudden empty grief and fury and terror, was false. He could be wrong.

Except he wasn't.

The other man was him, except he _wasn't_. Born of war and rage and pain, the other Doctor had looked out through cold eyes that _this _Doctor, the proper Doctor, had seen before. Long ago, he'd encountered himself like this, met this calculating cruelty and faced it down. He'd thought it was over.

When would he learn that it never was?

Another universe away, there was a girl that he'd left with a man he thought to be another version of himself. A girl that meant more to him than anything ever had—and he'd put her in danger.

He didn't want to know what else the _other _Doctor was going to say. He was certain that it would have been about Rose, and then he might have known too much. Now, though, he only had suspicions. He didn't know what had or hadn't happened to her; he could only guess.

And he could stop it.

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Author's Note: Please do let me know what you think! Reviews are love, and they really do make me post faster. :D

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	3. Chapter 3: Inside Out

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****Chapter 3:** **Inside Out**

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"You've been nicking things from the basement." Rose didn't want to bring it up, but _really_—couldn't he not leave them sitting around their flat?

"So?" He was so engrossed in his work, apparently, that he couldn't be bothered to look up at her.

"No hello, even?" she asked, hating the fact that she was nagging. Lately, though, that seemed to be the only way to get his attention.

Two months he'd been in this parallel universe with her, and he'd grown increasingly withdrawn. Oh, there were _wonderful _moments, moments of sheer beauty when she felt like her heart could burst from so much happiness…but they were growing fewer and further between. Often as not, he didn't bother to sleep at night (turns out that needing to sleep wasn't one of the human traits he acquired, though a greater inability to control his emotions, namely his temper, definitely was), and Rose found herself staring up at the ceiling and wishing for more. Anything but this.

"I'm busy, Rose."

She wished he'd babble, sometimes. Every now and then, he did, talking on and on with that brilliant-Doctor smile, but it seemed like he was forcing himself to do so. Not just babbling for the sake of babbling. Not any more.

"I know." She stepped up next to him, letting her shoulder rest lightly against his. Wanly, she tried to smile. "Building a TARDIS."

He shot her a barely tolerant look. "Isn't that what you'd like? To travel all of time and space again? Never to be planet-bound, never _stuck _here? I promised you the universe, Rose."

"I know," she sighed. "I just…is it so horrible for you to hear that I want you? Not the universe. I didn't fall for you just 'cause you have a TARDIS, you know."

"_Had _a TARDIS," he corrected her darkly. "Thanks to the Doctor, I don't."

"'S not like he had a spare. He gave you a start, at least." How did she wind up defending the other Doctor? She desperately wanted to be on _this _Doctor's side, but he made it so hard sometimes.

"Oh, yes. He definitely gave me a start."

Rose bit her tongue for a long moment before struggling her way towards a reply. "Doctor…"

"Don't call me that. We both know I'm not him."

A long moment passed before she could do anything more than stare. Yes, she and…this Doctor had been growing slowly apart (if they'd ever been truly together; she sometimes wondered if they'd clung to one another solely out of confusion and loneliness in the beginning) for a few weeks, but this was the first time either of them had come out and said it.

"_I'm not him,"_ he'd said. But where did that put her? If he didn't want to be the Doctor at all, then where did Rose fit in? A lump rose in her throat, but she pushed it back.

"Then what do you want me to call you?" she finally asked.

"Valeyard will work." He shot her another irritated glance. "Or John, if you must have something more…human."

There was no way she was calling him John; it felt much too intimate. And the sarcasm in his voice when he'd said 'human' ate at her. And yet, any name other than Doctor still felt extremely odd. He _looked _so much like her Doctor. Painfully so.

"What does Valeyard mean, anyway?" Rose demanded.

"Learned court prosecutor. Abandoned. Unlucky. Evil," he replied with the ghost of a smile. "Depends on what tongue and what derivative you're using."

"Great." _Why couldn't be "loved one" or something like that? Something that hints we have a future together._

He was worse than her first Doctor when it came to emotions and relationships—except when he was trying. When he was _trying_, he was wonderful, but most of the time he just wasn't. Wasn't trying, wasn't wonderful. Rose had promised herself long ago that she'd never simply settle for a man who wouldn't do his damnedest to work with her, but what was she supposed to do now?

When he didn't bother to respond, Rose returned to her original topic. "You can't just nick things from Torchwood, y'know."

"Not like anyone else is using them," he replied. "No one there even knew what they were until I told them."

Rose checked the urge to sigh again. Although the…whatever-he-was refused to have a "real" job with Torchwood, he worked as something of an outside consultant, helping identify equipment, wreckage, aliens, and anything else Torchwood had in the (massive) basement vaults and had never been able to identify. Doing so had kept him occupied for the past two months, mostly. Between that and working with that tiny piece of coral he'd either acquired or nicked (he was a bit unclear on that point) from the TARDIS, though, he'd managed to stay out of the rest of Torchwood's hair.

And out of Rose's hair, too, which she often found much of a disappointment. Even her first Doctor had been happy to babble on to her about whatever he was currently working on; this one preferred to work in silence. Without interruptions.

_Without Rose Tyler, _her treacherous mind added, and she bit her lip. This was worse than the years of separation, because he was close enough to touch—except it wasn't _him_. Not at all. She was rapidly realizing that, even if she had no idea what she was going to do about it.

Maybe she'd grown too much. Maybe he needed her innocence to make him want to be better. Maybe he would come around with time. Maybe—maybe anything. She wouldn't quit trying just because it was hard, but it would have helped an awful lot of he'd bothered to ever look like he wanted her.

Even friendship would have suited her at the moment, because she was starving for anything he'd give her. Anything at all.

"That's not the point," she tried to reason with him. "Some of this stuff is dangerous."

"As if I don't know that. Really, Rose." The nasty look he'd been giving the workbench turned on her. "I'm trying to work here."

"So, you just want me to leave you alone, then."

His attention returned to his work. "Somethin' like that, yeah."

"An' then what? Anything? Anything at all? Or d'you not care if I just swan off and jump off the nearest tall building?" Rose snapped, desperate to get a reaction out of him.

"Do what you like."

She stared, suddenly cold. He hadn't even heard a word of it—or if he had, he simply didn't care. The next question burst out of her without warning.

"So, what happened to those pretty words on the beach? Words about love, about forever?" She'd be damned if she'd cry, but everything was spiraling inside out, and all of her dreams were suddenly dust. "I don't even know you! And you're not even trying."

His head snapped up again, and the icy fury in his eyes forced her a step back.

Several long moments passed before he relented, and the cold expression vanished, replaced by a wan smile.

"Don't say that, Rose," he said more softly, stepping forward to take her hands. _Why am I letting him?_ "I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry—I'm just distracted. As usual. You know me."

_No, I really don't. I thought I did, but I don't know you at all._ She still let him continue, desperately wanting to hear the right words. The words she knew he would say.

"I did mean those words on the beach—every one of them. But this isn't easy, not at all. Everything here is new to me, and I hardly know where to begin with any of this. With us."

"It's not supposed to be like this," she whispered, struggling not to melt into him. Wishing she didn't sound like a lost child.

"And it won't be. Not forever. Once I get the coral back from Cardiff—it'll age in the Rift there, and in no time, I'll have a TARDIS. And things can go back to the way they were."

"Yeah."

She'd been so excited when he'd told her about how he could build a TARDIS, how they could travel the stars together again…but for the moment, she'd settle for a house, a mortgage, and a normal life. It wasn't what she wanted—she felt the same wanderlust he did—but she'd have settled for anything if it gave her _her _Doctor back.

So maybe the answer was waiting. Giving him time. It had only been two months, after all, and he did have a lot of issues to overcome.

She let him pull her into an embrace. She'd give him all the time in the universe, if that was what it took.

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Author's Note: Stay tuned for Chapter 4: "Topsy-turvy," in which everything begins to go wrong, Rose finds out exactly what she's dealing with, and Torchwood Three makes a guest appearance. Please review!


	4. Chapter 4: Topsyturvy

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**Chapter 4:** **Topsy-turvy**

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Life was almost back to normal, now, if Rose could count the fact that he spent most of his life in Cardiff and she spent most of hers in London. Then again, they seemed to do better talking over the phone (when he bothered to answer), and Rose went to see him nearly every weekend. He'd transferred his expertise to Torchwood Three and was still helping them pick their way through vaults and vaults of alien technology—when he wasn't nursing his TARDIS to life.

Rose, on the other hand, had quietly refused her father's offer to transfer her to Cardiff, saying that she had too much work to do in London. What she'd really hoped for was that the not-Doctor would start missing her, would actually call her or come visit…but he didn't. He seemed perfectly happy to talk to her when she called, or to go out with her when she showed up, but he seemed completely engrossed in TARDIS-building. No room for Rose Tyler in that, apparently.

_What ever happened to better with two?_

Seven months had passed, now, and things weren't getting any better. Still, Rose supposed that she could have tried harder, so she finally took the week off from work and headed out to Cardiff. He'd been so sweet the last time she'd visited; perhaps she was being unduly pessimistic.

"Hello," she said, poking her head around the corner.

He'd appropriated an entire level of Torchwood's basement for his work, and the corner the almost-TARDIS occupied was directly over a section of the Rift. She had to admit that growing his TARDIS over the Rift was a brilliant idea—a process he'd told her could take decades had taken shape over only a few months. The outside was even beginning to look vaguely coherent, box-like and solid-looking, if a bit inelegant.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Came to visit." Rose walked into the room uninvited, glancing admirably at the box-like structure. It didn't have doors, yet, just an opening—but it _was _bigger on the inside.

"Don't touch anything."

"All right." She gave him a smile, but he was ignoring her again, moving through the doors and for the twisted lump of coral that seemed to house the beginnings of a time rotor. There was a monitor and keyboard attached, and he looked like he was working on the programming. Rose paused in the opening. "She's beautiful."

There _was _something beautiful, despite the half-finished construction and haphazard way parts and pieces of coral filled the control room. Standing there, she felt like she could almost touch the beginnings of a TARDIS consciousness, and it was magical.

Hope surged within her for the first time in months. _Real _hope.

"I didn't say you could come inside," he snapped, making her jump.

"What?"

He looked at her like she was an idiot. "I'm _working_, Rose. This is a delicate process. You could very well disturb it without knowing what you were doing."

"I'm not exactly inside," Rose replied, swallowing back the sudden hurt.

"Then stay where you are."

"Sure."

And he proceeded to ignore her, clicking away on the keyboard, entranced by whatever-it-was he was doing. She wouldn't ask. She'd tried to draw him out like that so many times, only to run into a brick wall instead of the excited techno-babble she was expecting. Rose bit her lip, and then tried something different.

"I was thinking about getting some dinner. Want some?" It was a struggle, but she managed to keep her voice casual.

Finally, he looked up at her. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"I took the week off from work," she answered, then had to smile at the blank look on his face. "To visit you, silly."

"Don't call me that."

The sharpness of his tone deflated her response before she could get her mouth open. "That's a term of endearment, y'know," she finally said in a small voice. "Not 'cos I actually think you're silly."

_But you used to be, and I loved you for it._

"Right. I'm sorry. It's just…"

"Working. I know." Rose forced a smile. "I'll bring you somethin' back."

He didn't thank her.

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Walking back from the pizza shop, Rose ducked into one store and then another, taking her time and shopping. She didn't buy much aside from a silly-looking bear she thought Tony would love, but doing so ate up the time. She had to do something other than stand there and watch him tinker all night (which she'd once have been utterly happy to do), and shopping seemed the best way out.

It was either that or chase Weevils, and she just wasn't up to blood and violence tonight.

"Where were you?" he demanded as soon as she was back in the doorway.

"Shopping. I ordered you some pizza; it should have been here already."

"I didn't want pizza."

"Sorry. You didn't say much before I left." Rose shrugged, noticing that he'd eaten it anyway—the empty pizza box rested on top of a box outside the TARDIS-in-progress. She held the bear up. "I got Tony a teddy. What do you think?"

He ignored the question. "I expected you back sooner."

"Didn't think you'd missed me," she replied with surprise. "You seemed so busy, I figured it was nicer to stay out of your way."

_Tell me that I wasn't in the way, and I'll forgive you anything._

"I don't like you wandering off like that," he replied.

Rose blinked. "I can take care of myself, y'know. For most of the last few months, we've been living hundreds of miles apart. You seem fine with that."

"Don't wander off like that," he repeated.

She stared at him for a long moment, unable to will away the cold _command_ in his tone. But then she brushed it off. "Right. Well, you've got work to do, and I'm off to the hotel. Unless you want to come?"

"I'm busy."

"Yep, you sure are," she couldn't help saying. "I'll be off, then. Guess I shouldn't have bothered."

Rose had already turned to go when his sharp voice stopped her. "Stay here."

"You could try askin', y'know. Usually works better," she replied gently, her heart leaping just a little. He wanted her to stay. Even if he was being an obnoxious prat about it, he wanted her, and that counted for a lot.

"I wasn't asking you, Rose."

Now he moved towards her, all coiled springs and coldness. She tried to meet his eyes, knowing this dangerous Doctor and having seen him before—but never having had the dangerous side aimed at _her_. He stopped only inches away from her, and Rose found herself looking away again and again, no matter how hard she tried to meet his focused gaze.

"What?" she managed.

"I told you to stay. That's that."

"I'm not your servant," she retorted, wanting to slap sense into him. But somehow she sensed that doing so would be crossing a line, and if she did, she might never get him back.

His eyes narrowed. "You're my companion."

"An' that's the same thing, is it?" Rose snapped. "Thought I was _different._ That's what you said, _Doctor._"

"I'm not the Doctor." Fury filled the brown eyes, and she'd _never _seen the Doctor like this. Never wanted to.

She couldn't afford to be aware of how her dreams were dying. Just that she was beginning to hate him.

"What are you, then? 'Cos you're right. You're not him. He's better than this," Rose shot back. "You're not fit to be called by his name."

The blow snapped her head around and made her stagger backwards, gaping. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined—

"_I_," the not-Doctor hissed in her face, suddenly holding both of her upper arms tight enough to cause pain, "am far better than _he _will ever be. I am nothing like him, and you'd best accept that, Rose, because I am what you've got."

"Let go of me." It was a struggle to keep her voice steady, but she managed. The left side of her face was beginning to throb from the blow.

His smile was cruel. "No."

"Let go of my arms," Rose repeated, enunciating slowly. "Because even if you are what I've _got_, you aren't what I want. So you can build your TARDIS and find someone else to show the universe to. I'm not going to be your servant, your companion, or your plaything. Get your hands off me."

She was killing her own dreams, but he'd hardly left her a choice. Rose Tyler wasn't about to stand by and let a man hit her just because he looked like someone she'd once—_still_—loved.

_The Doctor's in another universe. This _isn't _the Doctor._ For the first time, that was a comforting thought. _He's not like this._

"You will be exactly what I wish you to be," he replied. Only then did she notice that he'd completely abandoned the Doctor's mannerisms—was this what he really was?

"No. Now let go before I start screaming for help, and then the team upstairs will come and shoot you. An' you've only got one life to live, so you'd best not waste it on trying to scare me."

The darkness melted into a smile again, but this smile was still cruel. Lazily cruel. "You won't scream. You love him too much."

"You're not him," Rose snapped. "You never—"

Without warning, his hands shifted to her temples and clamped down. He looked directly into her eyes. "But you won't remember that."

There was a sudden, sharp intrusion—

"_No!"_ Rose screamed, but it was too late. He was digging into her mind and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

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Author's Note: Stay tuned for chapter 5 "Right Side Up" in which everything..._changes. _And in the meantime, please review!


	5. Chapter 5: Right Side Up

**Full Circle**

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**Chapter 5:** **Right Side Up**

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_Without warning, his hands shifted to her temples and clamped down. He looked directly into her eyes. "But you won't remember that."_

_There was a sudden, sharp intrusion–_

"_No!" Rose screamed, but it was too late. He was digging into her mind and there was nothing she could do to stop him._

Something seemed to explode in her mind, and where Rose expected white nothingness to be, there was suddenly golden light. Churning. Charging. _Calling._

Everything hurt, yet they were both suddenly flying across the room in separate directions, the scenery before Rose's eyes swirling and tinted gold in color. She hit the floor hard, bouncing once, and had to blink before she could even see the not-Doctor (_the Valeyard_, her mind reported, applying that label to him for the first time) standing up slowly.

She scrambled to her feet.

"Stay away from me." Her head burned and her hands were shaking, but he looked startled and curious rather than afraid.

"The Vortex…" the Valeyard breathed. "Of course. I should have seen this coming. There's still some of the Time Vortex in you, and it defends you. Even against me."

"You're not the Doctor." The response was automatic; she didn't know where it came from.

"Oh, but I am," he responded. "The best of him–or the worst, depending upon your point of view. That's what I am. And I have you." He watched her, calculating. "The Bad Wolf."

"The what?" She barely remembered looking into the Heart of the TARDIS, and it had taken forever to convince _her _Doctor to explain it to her…a lifetime ago. But the gold light, the sudden power–everything was clicking into place.

"The big, bad wolf. Far more appropriate to be my companion than his." The Valeyard chuckled. "You destroy as much as you create. I'll use that."

"I'm not _going _to be your companion," Rose retorted. "I don't care if I never see the stars again. I don't care if I never see _you _again. You're not what I want, and I'm not so desperate that I'll accept even you pretending to be."

That distant sound was her heart breaking. She was quite sure of it.

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Time was meaningless in the Vortex, but his internal chronometer still clicked away on Gallifrey's now-meaningless clock. So, the Doctor knew that it had been three months, Gallifreyan time, since he'd dropped Donna off–said he was sorry, wiped her mind, retreated to the TARDIS to stare blankly at the console and mourn for everything he'd never have again. And then that call.

Three months of trying, and he'd still gotten nowhere. He'd tried everything he could think of, every equation he could crunch, every possibility he could explore–and he'd gotten precisely nowhere. There simply _weren't _any openings between the universes. None, not in at any time he could find, or any place. What had the duplicate him done?

His terrified mind didn't want to think of the name he knew he should be using, didn't want to contemplate that this was the _Valeyard_, the distillation of all the evil and darkness and madness inside himself. Once, he'd been told that the Valeyard had come from between his twelfth and thirteenth regenerations…but the Time Lords had been wrong before. There was no other explanation. He'd not quite regenerated, yet this _duplicate _had been created: created with anger, darkness, terror…and with blood on his hands. This was the moment. He'd left Rose with the Valeyard.

He should have seen it coming, but he'd already berated himself for it a thousand times. He should have _known._

A sudden beeping from the TARDIS drew his attention away from self-pity; thankfully, because he'd been doing that a lot lately. She was usually good about stopping him, was always dropping into random points in space and time to help him find a pathway, but this wasn't an unexpected stop.

This was a _signal._

For one long moment, he thought it might be another call. Might be the Valeyard calling him to gloat, calling him to say that Rose was–

_Don't even _think _that! _He refused to open the door to possibility.

The TARDIS beeped still louder at him, and the Doctor finally looked at the console. She was detecting an energy signature, something so far away–not in the Vortex at all. It was almost like another TARDIS, or a homing beacon, or…

"No," he whispered to himself. "It can't be."

But it was.

-----------

"You will be exactly what I want you to be," he told her again, still smiling.

"I'm–"

"Try to leave," the Valeyard cut her off.

"What?" Rose asked cautiously. There was something in his eyes she didn't like. It reminded her of the look on a cat's face when it had the mouse exactly where it wanted…and now could play.

"The Vortex inside of you is alive, now. I have no idea what it'll do to your human body, but I can control it," he replied. "Go on. Try."

Against her better judgment, Rose did–she _had _to–and found that her feet were rooted to the floor. She couldn't walk. Not at all. Her hands and arms, her upper body, would go wherever she wanted them to. But not her legs.

Rose struggled to swallow back fear.

"You can walk towards me, if you like," the Valeyard said helpfully.

"No way."

"I'm your only option, Rose. This is it. This is what you get."

"Why do you want me, anyway?" she demanded. "What do I matter to you? If you're not him, like you keep sayin' you aren't, why do you want me with you at all?"

For a moment, she could tell that she'd stumped him. Perhaps there _was _that much of the Doctor in him–just a little bit, but just enough. Was that echo the reason he was so adamant about keeping her with him? He'd certainly never been this insistent before.

Not until she'd tried to leave, anyway. Until she'd tried to be anything but _his_.

"Come here." His voice was hard.

She snorted. "Not going to happen."

Except her legs were _moving_, all on their own. Slowly, unsteadily, she was walking towards the Valeyard–Rose began to fight. She threw every bit of strength she had into backing away from him, into escaping his hold. If the Vortex was _inside _of her, and it wanted to protect her, surely she could use it against him.

The room exploded into gold light, and Rose was dimly aware of the Valeyard flying backwards once more, straight into his half-finished TARDIS. He hit something hard and cried out, seemingly more in anger than in pain.

But she still wasn't free of his hold–her legs were still marching her forward, foot by foot. "Let me _go!_" Rose shouted at him.

Furious brown eyes met hers, and suddenly Rose felt everything in the universe _shifting _around that man. The Valeyard stared at her for a long moment, and then she watched in horror as he strode towards her again. Wind picked up around them, whipping at her clothing and his dark jacket, and Rose felt power stirring.

This was old and ancient power, something not meant to be controlled by someone like either of them.

But he was doing it anyway, clearly disregarding the consequences. The wind–_time_–swirled harder and harder, and Rose was paralyzed when he reached for her again, his hands closing on each side of her head. His mind dug in, and as hard as she fought it seemed like there was nothing she could do. She could feel him _forcing _in, digging deep, cowing the Vortex tearing around inside her just like he was cowing Rose. Fighting as hard as she could didn't mean she wasn't terrified, because she instinctively knew that he'd leave little of _her _behind once he was finished.

_Pain._

Everything hurt, and the room was spinning. The wind became a tornado, closing in on Rose and the Valeyard, threatening to pound her flat into the floor. There was a fire in her head, fighting and struggling to be free, and he was grappling with it, pouring power into her battered mind again and again and_ again_.

Explosion of gold. Of light. Of–

Her head was suddenly free. Something had thrown the Valeyard backwards, tearing his hands away.

Someone grabbed her hand.

"_Run!"_

Her head was spinning so wildly that she could barely see, but someone pulled her out of the room as time and golden light whipped out of control. Rose could hear something cracking and something else crashing, but the wind stopped cold as it approached her, keeping its distance. As her vision cleared, Rose realized that the room behind them was _splintering_–

Familiar arms pulled her to the floor without warning, and she cried out. Wind tore past her face, and sudden heat rushed around them. Something exploded, but behind the roar of the blast she heard a familiar grinding noise.

Bits of wall rained down on her head; blinking, Rose realized that she was just beyond the doorway to the basement room the Valeyard had been working in–and she was alone. Sudden panic seized her. Was it all her imagination? Had there been no one there? Had she gotten away from the not-Doctor only for him to run away…and then what? She'd desperately wanted him to leave, but there was an empty ache in her heart. She didn't want him, not like this, and yet she could hardly bear the thought of going on without him. Nothing made any sense, especially since he was standing in the doorway right there. She just wanted–

Rose shook her head. Cleared it.

Tall. Untamed brown hair. Brown eyes. Sideburns. Less than great skin. Brown pinstriped suit and overcoat. Chucks. _Brown pinstriped suit and an overcoat._

"Hello," he said softly.

Rose stared.

Swallowed dryly.

The Valeyard had been wearing dark slacks and a dark jacket–more black than blue when it came down to that. The not-Doctor the Doctor had left her with hadn't _ever _worn brown, and he hated the idea of an overcoat when she suggested one. This one, though…this one was wearing that brown pinstriped suit she remembered, was wearing the overcoat and an outrageous purple tie. His shirt's top button was open. And his smile was very uncertain.

"Doctor…?" she whispered, feeling broken. Feeling alive. Feeling _lost_.

His voice was even softer than hers. "It's me."

She didn't know if she should slug him or kiss him. "…How?"

"Long story." He swallowed hard. "He's gone."

"You knew?" Rose struggled to her feet, swaying a bit.

"I–Not at first, no. Thought something much different, I did. But I figured it out. He called me–probably hasn't done it yet, but that doesn't really matter. I guessed, figured, _realized_…" the Doctor sucked in a deep breath. "I've met him before–oh, hundreds of years ago, now–and I thought he came from something different, but once I realized…"

The monologue ran down and he stared at her like he was lost and broken.

"I'm so sorry, Rose. So, so sorry." His voice broke. "I tried to give you everything _I _couldn't give you and I mucked it all up, and I…I know that none of this is what you wanted. And I'll go. I just had to…I had to stop him. Before it was too late."

"Go?" she repeated in shock. What was he saying?

"You can't–I'm sure you've seen enough of this face by now." The Doctor laughed nervously. "After all–"

He cut off abruptly as she took two long steps forward and grabbed him by the front of that lovely brown overcoat, pulling him to face her. Pulling him close enough that she could see the loneliness and terror in his eyes.

"Say the words," Rose whispered fiercely. Suddenly, that was all that mattered. She had one last chance, and she wasn't about to give it up.

Brown eyes went _huge_.

"_Say _them."

"Rose Tyler…I love you." He looked directly in her eyes, and Rose saw the universe stretch out before her. "Have for…oh, forever."

They both knew why he chose that word.

She kissed him, and it was almost like before, on the beach–but now it was _the_ Doctor wrapping his arms around her, and they clung to one another for dear life. For a moment, she could feel the earth rotating, the universe shifting and time marching forwards and backwards and moving gently, like currents off a calm beach–it was a sensation she'd never felt in the almost-Doctor's arms, and it made her feel light headed, terrified, relaxed. Rose was crying, and she thought he might have been, too, but even after they stopped kissing, neither let go. She was _home._

He'd messed up, but she could forgive him. He'd meant well, even if he had rather _spectacularly _ruined her life for seven months, but it wasn't the first time Rose had forgiven the Doctor for a mistake. Even if this was the biggest yet, she would get over it.

She needed him. He needed her. Sometimes, the equation was as simple as that.

-----------

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Author's Note: Somehow I managed to forget to post the rest of this story. It's done, so look for the rest in the next week or so. There's nine chapters total, including the epilogue, and reviews are yummy, so feel free to let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter 6: Straight Lines

**Full Circle**

* * *

_**Chapter 6:** **Straight Lines**_

* * *

Oddly enough, walking out of Torchwood Three was absurdly easy. All Rose needed to do was apologize for the mess in the basement (and then only because she felt a bit guilty for it) and they were off–she doubted that the team upstairs even stopped to notice that "John Valeyard" (he'd insisted on using that name as his official one) left wearing different clothes than he'd arrived in.

They didn't speak on the way up, just clung to one another's hands as if each was afraid the other would disappear. And maybe Rose was. After all, he'd left her once–and though she was convinced that she'd forgive him for it, feeling a bit of lingering resentment was definitely human.

That was the TARDIS standing in the square, just where she had in the other universe's Cardiff. And seeing her meant–

"It's _real_," Rose breathed, finally daring to look up at the Doctor. "You're real."

Because the thought had entered her mind that this wasn't real at all–either she was unconscious and imagining it all, or this was the Valeyard, playing at things. But his half-finished TARDIS couldn't look exactly like the old one, could it? Why would he bother? Even if he'd managed to cross his own timeline and save her from himself, Rose couldn't imagine a TARDIS belonging to _that _man welcoming her so brightly.

She could feel that welcome. They were something like fifty feet away from the TARDIS, but Rose could _feel _the TARDIS reaching out to her, joyously and with instant recognition of an old friend. Her breath caught with the strength of that embrace, and she knew that wonder filled her face.

"Really real," he replied. His smile was tentative, still nervous and twitchy. "Really, _really_, real. And I'm–"

She cut him off with a shake of her head. "Not now. Please?"

"All…all right." He sounded so frightened that Rose simply had to lean into his shoulder. Had to put her head against his chest, to breathe in and _feel _him.

"You can apologize later," she said quietly. "Just for now…I want to luxuriate in everything being okay. Just for a little bit."

The Doctor wrapped his arms around her, and they stood in silence for a long moment, holding on so tightly that Rose was sure she'd never want to let go. It had been so long since she'd felt the strange double thump-thump in his chest…so long since she'd felt _safe_.

That was the TARDIS. This was the Doctor. The last seven months had been awful, but this one was _real._

He would apologize later, she knew, and that was a good thing. She needed to hear it, and he probably needed to say it. But right now, they needed one another more than anything else. Words could wait.

Except–she had to know. Right now. Before she drowned in him. Because she was so susceptible to this man–he was the one person in the universe that she would forgive _anything_…and had, so many times, with the duplicate him. Oh, the Valeyard had never hurt her physically, not before that very night, but the constant moodiness and distance had been driving her mad. She'd loved the memory of the Doctor so much that it had stretched into love for his nasty duplicate, and she couldn't let a memory fool her into thinking everything would be all right. Not this time.

"What next?" Rose asked in what she knew was a tiny voice.

"Well…" he drew the word out, clearly buying time. "I found a hole. An itty bitty hole. Far too tiny, under normal circumstances, for even the TARDIS to see, but I detected either his TARDIS or the Vortex in you–which we're really going to have to look at, very closely, before it hurts someone or someone uses it to hurt _you_–and we made it through. Fast as I could."

"But the hole is closing." She'd heard this story before.

"Not…exactly." The Doctor took a deep breath. "But it's not quite stable, either. I can get through once, and I'm going to have to, but after that, there's no telling what'll happen. It'll probably, possibly anyway, be big enough to get a wireless signal through…but no bigger. And no guarantees."

"So, I might be able to call my Mum. And I might not." It was better than Rose had expected, and in phrasing it that way she was throwing the biggest, broadest hint she could think of…right in the Doctor's lap. Because he still hadn't answered the question she needed so desperately to ask.

"You–you–" He sounded like he was breaking in two. "You want…tocomewithme?"

A helpless giggle escaped Rose when the last four words all rushed into one. She'd never seen him so nervous! Never even thought that the Doctor could be like this–but if she didn't stop laughing, she was going to fall over, and she was quite certain that the Doctor would think she was loony if she rolled around on the ground giggling out her relief.

"Of course I do!" she gasped, suddenly no longer needing to laugh–he'd tensed against her, coiled tightly and ready to flee. Rose felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her head; yes, it had been a horrible seven months for her, but he'd forced himself to walk away…and how long had he spent, knowing about the Valeyard and unable to get through?

Rose pulled back, not letting go at all, but leaning back to look the Doctor in the face. To look directly into his eyes. "I made my choice a long time ago," she said quietly. "Remember?"

"I–err–yes." She watched him swallow hard. "I'm just…oh, I'm an idiot, aren't I?"

"Yeah," Rose agreed with a smile. "But I kinda like you like that. He wasn't."

A painful mix of longing, love, sorrow and regret filled his eyes. "I'm so sorry," the Doctor repeated.

"I know. 'S all right, for today, anyway. You can apologize tomorrow, if you want. When we're gone, an' I've woken up, knowing this is real." She sucked in her own deep breath, and surprised herself by grinning at him. "'Sides, I'm sure you can find _some _way to make it up to me. If you try hard enough."

Finally, he smiled back–it wasn't the wild, Doctor-grin, but it was something. His eyes were shining. "Oh, I'll try," he promised. "Watch out for that–I'm creative."

"I bet you are." Rose snuggled into his chest again, savoring the double thump-thump, inhaling the different smell, the slightly cooler skin. The Valeyard had been close (so very close) when he'd tried to be, but it had not been the same. Maybe, if the duplicate had _wanted_ to be like this man, he could have…but he hadn't. And Rose hadn't ever quite stopped dreaming of the Doctor. _Her _Doctor.

Another few months and she might have stopped dreaming. But that hadn't happened yet.

"Are you sure about this?" he whispered. "I can't move the TARDIS, and we don't really have the time to go to London any other way. Oh, we could chance it, but there's a rather substantial chance that the window will close, and I've–I've got…responsibilities. A whole universe of them. I can't just…not go back."

Rose closed her eyes for a moment. "I know," she replied. "I've always know the cost, Doctor…an' I really didn't expect to go back, last time. I said my goodbyes. I'll call my Mum and… Well, Mum knows. She's always known. But I do want to warn her an' Dad, and Torchwood, about the Valeyard."

"Good idea. Of course, I doubt he'll be a danger here. I know where he's going, what he wants to do, and it's not in this galaxy, let alone this universe. He's got things to do, in the past–in _my _past–and he knows that he has to, lest he create a paradox and never exist," the Doctor replied in a rush. Then he hesitated–which was so _unlike _him, but proved to Rose how very lost he'd been. "So…d'you want to go, then?"

"Only if you hold my hand," Rose replied, looking up at him with a smile. She felt _free_, and she could see the tension beginning to seep out of his expression.

"Always," the Doctor promised.

---------

"Yes, Mum. I'll be fine. Jus' watch out for him, will you? He's dangerous," Rose added.

"Honey, are you sure about this?" Jackie Tyler asked from the other end of the line. But Rose was standing in the TARDIS, just a few feet away from the Doctor, and she'd never been so sure. Not even when she'd sling-shotted herself across universes to find him again.

"Yeah, Mum. I am. It's him, and…oh, you know, Mum! He needs me. An' I need him."

"He said that last one needed you too, Rose," her mother reminded her. "Look what happened there."

Rose sighed. "So he was wrong. He _came back_. Risked everything to save me. Doesn't that tell you everything you need to hear?"

"I suppose." Rose could hear the resignation in Jackie's voice. "But what am I supposed to tell Tony? He adores his big sister."

"Tell him what you were going to say seven months ago, I guess. It's not much different." But she had to swallow–not because she was leaving everything behind (she'd long since accepted that), but because it was real. She wasn't rushing in to save the universe(s), wasn't moving too quickly to _think_–Rose was saying her goodbyes, real and reasoned out, and she'd never thought it would be so hard to do. Especially over a mobile phone.

"You tell that…that _alien _that he'd better take good care of you. No more leaving you for your own good!" the voice on the other end ordered. "You hear me, Rose Marion Tyler? Tell him to do right by you, and that he owes you one _heck _of an apology!"

"Yes, Mum." There wasn't much else she could say, though Rose certainly wasn't going to phrase it that way to the Doctor. "I will." She glanced to where he stood, just a few feet away, and received a brilliant (if unsteady) smile in return. "He will, too."

"Oh, baby, I'm gonna miss you," her mother said, and Rose heard her choke back a sob. "But I guess we did get seven months we didn't bargain for, didn't we? Even if they weren't the best time of your life."

Rose reached out and felt the Doctor's fingers close on her free hand.

"The Doctor's worth the monsters, Mum," she replied. "He always has been."

-----------

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Author's Note: Somewhat short, but much more to come--understandably, Rose isn't quite ready to believe everything is all right. Please review!


	7. Chapter 7: Two Points

**Full Circle**

_**Chapter 7:** **Two Points**_

* * *

A few hours later–after painful goodbyes and an exhilarating ride through two separate Time Vortices–Rose discovered that his presence could still startle her.

She was back in her old room, sorting through clothing she'd worn traveling with him the _first _time (mostly stuff that she was no longer interested in wearing–she hadn't realized how much her taste could change in three years) and deciding what she'd need to buy and figuring out where she'd like to buy it from. After all, there was no reason to simply go to her old Earth–she could acquire a wardrobe from any planet she pleased, and it was amazing to suddenly realize that she had that freedom back.

"Settling back in all right?" he asked from the doorway, and Rose jumped. For a moment, she expected to turn and face that disinterested, barely tolerant expression–but though the face was the same, the brown eyes were suddenly full of concern. "I didn't mean to startle you," the Doctor said quickly. "I'm so sorry. I'll just–"

"Don't go." Rose let the words out before she thought about them. "I don't mean to think you're him. It's jus'…"

"Same face. Different man," he finished for her. "I know."

"Not so unlike same man, different face," Rose countered, smiling a little. "I'll get used to it. Probably quickly, 'cos he wasn't so bad most of the time. Just a prat."

"What…what was he like?" the Doctor asked after a moment.

"Not you," she answered simply, and was rewarded by a hesitant twitch of a smile. "But not so awful, at first. I think he was tryin' to convince me, then. But after he started working on the TARDIS, he got obsessive about it, and…well, I think he just wished I'd leave him alone, so I did. Last five months, he's been in Cardiff, and I stayed home. I'd visit him, and it seemed better that way."

"Then what started what I found?"

"Oh." Rose snorted a laugh at herself. "I guess I started talking 'bout leaving. I meant just for the night, but he took it all wrong, and tried to stop me. And I got angry. I told him that I wasn't his servant or his plaything, and that I didn't give a damn if he had a TARDIS, 'cos I wasn't going with him. He didn't like that."

"Rose Tyler…" And he smiled when he said her name in a voice full of wonder. "You have got to be one of the silliest, stupidest, bravest and most fantastic people I have met in my…oh, _very _long and checkered life. No one has ever quite been like you."

She met his smile with her own, but it faded with a thought. "He hates you, doesn't he?" she asked. "I told him that he wasn't fit to wear your face, and he was furious."

"I imagine he was! He's always hated every bit of me, called me a sanctimonious meddler and a hundred other things. Said I was wasting my life, doing what I do."

"Even though he came from you."

"Oh, yes." The Doctor's eyes focused somewhere in the distance. "If I'd known he was going to become the Valeyard, I'd…I'd have found somewhere else to leave him. Nowhere near you."

"Leave him?" Rose repeated.

"Would have had to. Can't risk creating a paradox–I met him back in my sixth incarnation. He was trying to get me sentenced to death so he could have my remaining regenerations. Looked a lot older then, though, and no one knew where he'd come from. Eventually, they figured it out," the Doctor explained. "Though they thought he came from between my twelfth and thirteenth regenerations. Not between this one and number eleven."

She shivered. "You knew there would be someone like this, one day? Someone from you?"

He nodded grimly. "Yep. Didn't think it'd be him, though. Figured something better would come from the combination of this body and Donna."

"Then what _is _he, since he's not really a duplicate of you?" Rose asked after a moment. She knew what the Doctor had _thought _he'd be, but the fact that he'd known about the Valeyard was suddenly sinking in. He'd never told her about anything like this–but then again, there was a lot he'd never told her, and Rose had never pressed. His past had always been a dark area between them, one filled with pain. She'd been younger when she traveled with him, and much more innocent, caring more for his feelings than her own curiosity.

For a wild moment, Rose was completely unable to believe that this was going to work–she was no longer a wide-eyed girl seeing the universe for the first time and accepting everything at face value. She'd experienced too much, changed too much, and had seen a man with this very same face becoming a monster.

Gently, the Doctor took her hands, clearly having seen the fear and doubt on her face. He squeezed them, looking directly into her eyes. "The Valeyard is the distillation of everything bad, everything dark, and everything evil in me, Rose," he said quietly. "He's the storm inside of me, the fury that I hold back–everything I might be, but am not. Everything _you _saved me from."

He'd said the same thing on the beach, just not quite in the same way.

"The older I get, the more I have lost," the Doctor continued quietly. "It gets harder and harder to cope, over time…and I wasn't able to, after the war, until you pulled me back."

"Then why couldn't I save him?" Rose asked without meaning to. _Why couldn't I save him like you wanted me to? Is this _my _fault?_

"Because he didn't want to be saved," he replied softly. The Doctor let go of her left hand to lay his palm against Rose's cheek. "I did."

----------

_I don't deserve this_, he thought as Rose leaned into him for a hug. And he didn't. He'd messed up so many times–not just in leaving her, but in never even considering how _very _dangerous the duplicate him might be–that he absolutely did not deserve Rose's forgiveness. Didn't deserve _her, _in his arms, holding onto him as tightly as he was her. He'd known he was breaking her heart, burning all his bridges behind his back, as he left her at Bad Wolf Bay…but he'd been so convinced that it was the right thing to do.

_How many times in your life has being convinced of _that_ actually accomplished what you set you to do? You're a fool, Doctor, _a voice inside his head told him. He'd mucked everything up in the most unbelievable fashion, and yet here they were. Somehow, against all odds, he had Rose back.

And he had a lot of heartbreak to make up for, even if she wasn't letting him apologize yet.

"Doctor?" she whispered against his shoulder.

"Yeah?"

Looking down at her, he found her looking up at him. The doubt in her eyes was still there–_how can she doubt herself?_–but there were deeper emotions, too.

"I love you," Rose whispered.

Immediately, a lump formed in his throat. This was the first time she'd said those words to him since that _first _day on the beach…the worst day of both their lives. Amazingly, he didn't hesitate. "I love you, too."

For once in his life, he'd said the right thing at the right time, because the smile on Rose's face was real. The Doctor hesitated, just for a moment, and then he kissed her.

Doing so was a commitment, and he hoped she realized that. The kiss was a promise that he wasn't going to walk away, that he was going to see this through to the end–even if that meant staying with Rose until the end of her human lifespan. He wasn't going to back away, not this time: not from fear, and certainly not because he thought he knew what was best for Rose.

"You're beautiful," the Doctor whispered when they pulled apart, meaning it.

Her smile was suddenly shy, with a piece of tongue peeking out from between her teeth. "A girl could get used to hearing compliments like that."

"Good. 'Cause I could get use to saying them. Meaning them. Everything." He grinned at her like an idiot, but it was all right.

----------

Commitment or no, he managed to avoid talking about the future for a few weeks–something told him that Rose agreed on that–while they felt one another out again. There were some rough moments, but slowly they were becoming as close as they'd once been, having a hard time figuring out where one began and the other ended.

Along the way, the Doctor was discovering that he was addicted to Rose Tyler. Addicted to holding her, kissing her, _being _with her–anything would do, but now that he'd let himself tell her how he felt, he found that there was no going back. His lonely soul was completely wrapped up in her, and if he noticed himself smiling more often and laughing more freely…well, he knew that she did, too.

They'd warned their friends, of course–even Wilf, telling him to look out for Donna. While the Doctor didn't _think _that the Valeyard would go after the others, there was no telling. Besides, the other him had to do something once the Time War was over (assuming he survived it), and the last thing the Doctor needed was someone impersonating him.

Though he'd probably have a lot more of that to deal with in the coming years, as well as the Valeyard trying to steal his remaining regenerations. _But it's still better than leaving him loose to roam the universes with Rose as his prisoner, so I'll take what I can get._

Thinking of Rose led him towards her door. She'd gone to sleep less than an hour before, leaving the Doctor alone with his thoughts. He had a few things to fix in the TARDIS, of course, but most of them had been waiting on repairs for years and could continue to do so. He had time to peek in on her.

Except Rose was tangled up in the covers, twisting and twitching and crying. He couldn't hear what she was saying, but it was obvious that she was experiencing a nightmare.

He approached her bedside cautiously, fairly sure what horrors she was seeing and knowing that seeing _his _face wouldn't help. The Doctor touched her shoulder gently. "Rose?"

There was no response, so he slowly lowered himself to sit by her side, shaking her gently. "Rose. _Rose._"

"No!" She bolted upright into a sitting position with a cry, shoving him away with both hands. Unbalanced, the Doctor tumbled off the bed and to the floor, landing on his behind.

Rose blinked before he could find words to comfort her.

"Doctor?" she whispered brokenly.

He was by her side in an instant. "Yep. It's me. Only me. Same daft old Doctor." Carefully, he reached out to touch her shoulder. "I won't hurt you, Rose."

She gulped and nodded, tears still streaming down her face.

"Do you want me to go?" he asked gently, unable to tell if his presence was helping or hurting.

Rose shook her head wildly, chocking back another sob, and the Doctor shifted closer.

"C'mere, then," he said softly, opening his arms to her. She practically dove into them, and he held her as she cried, stroking her back and resisting the urge to tell her that everything would be all right. Instead, he told her that he loved her, and when Rose fell back asleep, he lowered her back to the bed and stayed by her side.

----------

That wasn't the first time that they'd fallen asleep in the same bed, but Rose sensed that something had changed between them the night before. It was the first time they'd done so since her return, and she could feel their relationship shifting and trying to wrap itself around the intimacy of sleeping in his arms.

The Valeyard had never seemed very interested in spending the night with Rose; at first, he'd been "worried" about the time they'd spent apart and "concerned" for her feeling; later, once Rose had gotten to know him better, he'd simply decided not to sleep. But the Doctor–who she _knew _didn't need to sleep nearly as much as she did–stayed with her until morning, when she'd woken wrapped up in his arms…and found him dozing, too. She'd never seen him so relaxed, or so beautiful, and Rose had been unable to resist the temptation to kiss him awake.

Three days later (two toppled dictatorships and one nice evening in the Time Vortex between them), she was still savoring the shocked-but-happy look on his face. Her nightmares had all but vanished with him there, and Rose had a hard time fighting back the urge to ask him to come back the next night. She'd desperately wanted to–but wasn't sure if it would be all right. _Maybe I'm a coward, but I love him too much to push him away._

However, the night after toppling that second dictatorship, Rose woke herself up with her sobbing, and lay there crying and shivering for almost an hour before need overrode her fears.

She was heading for the control room when she saw a light underneath the door across from her own–was that his room? The TARDIS had shifted rooms around at least twice since she'd been back (and several times during her absence, Rose was sure), which meant she still got lost from time to time. She'd had no idea that the Doctor's room was so close–or that he ever really bothered to use it.

Knocking quietly brought no response, so, after a slight hesitation, Rose cracked the door open and peeked in.

He was sprawled on the giant wooden four-poster with abandon, his glasses pushed far down on his nose so he could read over them. She couldn't read the title of the book he was working on from the doorway, but it was huge, dusty, and creaky-looking. Probably a classic from some planet or another.

The Doctor's head snapped up without warning. "Rose!"

He was off the bed in an instant, and her confidence evaporated. What was she _thinking_, wandering into his room in the middle of the night? Was she a child looking to crawl into her mum's bed just because she had a nightmare?

"I'm sorry," she managed to get in before he asked a thousand questions. "I didn't mean to wake you. I was jus'…awake. Yeah. Awake. And I saw your light…"

"Another nightmare?" the Doctor asked gently.

Rose nodded miserably, shivering as he wrapped his arms around her. She hated how weak her voice sounded: "Can I stay with you?"

"'Course you can." He kissed the top of her head, and Rose leaned into him, feeling _safe._ A long time ago, she'd held her first Doctor when he had nightmares (he'd been loathe to let her do it, but a nineteen year old Rose Tyler was a stubborn girl), and though she wouldn't have let anyone else see her in such a mess, this was the Doctor. _Her_ Doctor.

"I don't mind if you read, or…anything," Rose said quietly, taking a deep breath. She hated admitting weakness, but… "I just don't want to be alone."

He could have left the light on and not touched her at all, for all Rose cared. Being close to him was better than anything else–but the Doctor threw her a funny glance and smiled.

"Nah, I was just going to stop, anyway. Ol' Charlie always gives me a headache after a bit." He let go of her long enough to pull the book off the bed and pull the covers back for her. "In you go. I'll be right back."

Climbing into the Doctor's bed felt strange–usually, when she'd caught her first Doctor having nightmares, he'd been dozing in the console room or the library. She'd only been in his room a handful of times (ever), and pulling the heavy blankets up to her chin did nothing to erase the awkwardness Rose felt.

The Doctor reappeared a moment later, wearing pajamas. Despite herself, Rose smiled.

"Your jammies have pinstripes on them," she pointed out softly.

He grinned as he walked around to the other side of the bed. "So they do. May I?"

"'S your bed."

"Always polite to ask, though, isn't it? And while I'll freely admit to being both rude and not ginger, I'm trying very hard to be on my best behavior."

Despite herself, Rose giggled a little. He was so obviously trying to put her at ease, but it was working. After a moment, she felt comfortable enough to wiggle closer to him–this was the Doctor, after all, and not some stranger. When he turned off the light and wrapped his arms around her, it felt completely natural.

"So, why don't you tell me about these nightmares?" he asked quietly, and Rose stiffened.

"They're…nothing," she said quietly, desperately trying to block the images out of her mind.

_Cold laughter–_

_Golden light twisting around until it focused on her, hurt _her_; then and only then did it carve a path back out before her, a path to lead them together once more–_

_Pain and loneliness. She spent each day staring at a face she both loved and hated–hated both of them because one had left her and the other tore her apart–_

_Day after day, trapped in a TARDIS she was no longer aloud to leave. Days beyond that, then years, with her consciousness torn out of a still-young human body and deposited into a machine that hated the Valeyard, loved the Valeyard, hated the Doctor and hated Rose. She wasn't welcome and yet she was stuck–_

"Rose!" Only a hard shake tore her free of the memories, and Rose gasped out a sudden sob. She hadn't meant for them to overwhelm her like this… The Doctor rubbed her back and held her tight. "That's not nothing," he said gently. "Not nothing at all."

"I didn't want to bother you," she objected weakly. "They're jus' nightmares, right? Only my subconscious playing out fears."

He'd told her that, once, about his own nightmares. That they were that and memories, and these she couldn't have memories of things that hadn't happened, could she?

"Fears of what?" the Doctor asked, stopping her panicked train of thought.

"Nothing," Rose repeated, swallowing. She didn't know why she was arguing. Just that she ought to, for some stupid reason or another. The Doctor had come for her, after all. Why burden him with the silly consequences her mind could dream up for what might have been?

"I seem to recall using that line on you a few times," he chided her, his tone playful yet concerned. "You, Miss Tyler, told me, and I quote: 'to stuff my _nothing _down into unmentionable places and to tell you what was wrong.' Turnabout's fair play."

Her laugh was half a sob, but Rose did remember telling him that. She also remembered the angry northern accent turning softer as he gave in, telling her about losing everyone and watching friends die in a war he'd never wanted to fight but had been on the front lines of. She swallowed.

_If he could brave telling me about the Time War, I can certainly tell him about my nightmares! _Rose thought to herself. _They're silly, anyway._

"They're just dreams," she said, as much to convince herself than him. "I keep thinking about…about what might've been. If you hadn't come. If I'd–gone with him."

_Because I'm here in your TARDIS and I'm so happy that I'm afraid it's not true, _she couldn't say. Each nightmare was something different and something new, and they were tearing her apart from the inside out, because each seemed so possible. So _real_.

She rambled her way into continuing: "It's never the same, but it's always the same. If you hadn't come, he'd have forced me to go with him, digging into my mind like he did, and somehow he'd have turned everything on me…usually, I end up locked in a room in his TARDIS, never allowed to leave or to see anyone but him. Sometimes, though, my mind's been forced into his TARDIS, and I can never die or leave–jus' travel with him through all eternity, sometimes seeing you at a distance, but never able to tell you I'm there."

"Oh, Rose…" Until he wiped her tears away, she didn't realize she was crying. But he didn't tell her to stop, just held her and made her feel _safe_. "That's never going to happen. I _promise you_, Rose Tyler. That's not going to happen."

The fierceness in his voice made her nod shakily. "I know–I believe you," she said quietly. "They're just so…_vivid_. I've never had dreams like that before. I can see, hear, feel…everything. It's like I'm looking at a future that might have been but now won't. And I know it won't, but it's just…"

"Frightening," he finished for her, and Rose nodded again.

"He was so interested in the Bad Wolf," she whispered after a moment. "He said he could control the Vortex in me. Use it." A shiver tore through her entire body before she added: "In my dreams, he's always using it to draw you in, 'cos the Bad Wolf was a path to lead me back to you."

"It worked, too," the Doctor said softly. "The TARDIS detected _you_, not that half-finished TARDIS he's still building. That spark in you–he woke it up, and _he _led me straight to you. If he hadn't done that, I might never have found you."

Rose shivered again, squeezing her eyes shut tight against the sudden thought of what might have been–

_Pounding against the doors, the walls, and the floor did no good–he only came when he wanted to come, mocking her in _his _voice, telling her about all the places he'd been and the people he'd seen. Some of them thought he was the Doctor, and the Valeyard didn't bother to disabuse them of that notion. Oh, no._

_One day, he told her about how he'd finally breached the walls between the universes, how he'd even slipped back into history that was Time Locked, and he let her out of her too-nice room just the once, to let her see a beautiful planet with orange skies and silver trees. The Doctor was there, he told her–not her Doctor, but a Doctor all the same–and the Valeyard was going to destroy him. _

_This was their home, he told her, the planet the Doctor had never even told her the name of, and the one that the Valeyard would betray to the Daleks._

_Later, he threw her back into the plush and comfortable room, telling her that no one would hear her so she could cry all she wanted._

_Some years later, he let her watch on a television-type screen as he landed his TARDIS next to a blue police box, and not long passed before he dragged an unconscious Doctor out and handed him over to the Daleks–_

"Rose, stop. Please. Look at me, Rose. Please look at me." A long moment passed before she could focus on the sound of the Doctor's voice, and she stared into his face, shaking helplessly.

"I didn't–didn't–" She gulped the words back, not knowing what she was trying to deny.

"Shh," he whispered, cupping her face in one hand, the other arm still tight around her. "I'm here."

"I–Doctor, what's _happening_ to me? Why can't I stop?" she almost shouted the words at him, but he didn't seem to notice.

The Doctor sucked in a deep breath before answering. "I don't think they're nightmares, Rose," he said softly. "I think you're seeing the future that very well could have been."

"What–_why_?"

"I don't know. Bad Wolf, I'd wager. The Time Vortex is alive in you, now, Rose. And it's…it's showing you what might have been."

"Why can't it just be a dream?" Rose asked.

"I wish it was," the Doctor breathed into her hair. "But it's almost as if…"

When he didn't finish the sentence, she volunteered the only information that she thought could help–anything to keep the images at bay. "He took me to Gallifrey," she whispered.

"To where?" She thought she felt his hearts skip a beat.

"Your home," Rose replied in a tiny voice. "He took me there, said you were there, and that he was going to destroy you…but he couldn't, and he tried again in the Time War, handing you over"–her voice caught in her throat–"to the Daleks."

"Those aren't dreams, Rose. They can't be. I've never told you my planet's name. Or about that part of the war."

She closed her eyes. "I know."

-----------

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Author's Note: The shortest distance between two points should be a straight line…but in Doctor Who, it never is. Stay tuned!


	8. Chapter 8: Circle Closed

Full Circle

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__

**Chapter 8: Circle Closed**

* * *

"There's one way to be sure," the Doctor said quietly, bracing himself for her objections–and hating what it was he had to say. Rose had come to him for comfort and for safety, and yet here he was, willing to destroy all of the trust built up between them with a single action.

Her eyes focused on him desperately. "Let's do it, then."

"You might want to let me tell you what it is, first," he said quickly. Uneasily. "I mean–I could be proposing anything. Anything at all."

"I trust you," Rose interjected before he could get a good babble going. The Doctor could only swallow, struggling not to melt from sheer _love _of this (anything-but-simple) human woman.

"You're not going to like it," he warned her.

"I don't like a lot of things."

There was no getting around the determination in her eyes, so he just blurted it out: "I'm going to have to look into your mind."

"What–no–I mean–" Rose's eyes widened and then slammed shut; she shook against him. Then she whispered, unexpectedly: "Will the Bad Wolf hurt you?"

A sudden rush of tenderness hit him, and he pulled her close again. At a time like this, Rose was worried about _him_? The Doctor kissed her forehead before replying.

"I don't think so. If you trust me, I think it will be fine. And if I do look in, I can tell you what the Vortex is doing to you–and what it might do. Not just if these are visions of some sort or another, pieces of a timeline that won't exist now," he explained. "And you don't have to show me everything…all you have to do is imagine a door between me and any memories you don't want me to see, and I won't go there. I won't open–"

"I trust you," Rose repeated firmly, cutting him off. "No doors. No secrets."

She was trembling a little, but she was so brave.

"I love you," he whispered.

"You too, silly." She giggled nervously. "But jus' do it, all right?"

"Right."

"D'you need me to sit up or anything?" Rose didn't move, though, and the Doctor could tell she didn't want to. She felt safe there, and there was no reason to change that.

"Nope," he said quietly. "This'll work fine."

Conventionally speaking, he should have had her sit up, should have placed one hand on each side of her head and focused himself on nothing save that. Except that was exactly what the Valeyard had done (albeit standing), and the Doctor didn't want her to remind her of that. Not at all. Touching someone was contact enough, and he already had one hand on the side of her face, and that was plenty close.

He eased his forehead in to rest against hers. It was certainly close enough. Probably more intimate than any of his people would ever have approved of, but then, they'd not have approved of Rose, either. _Their loss._

The Doctor closed his eyes, and slipped into her mind.

_Rose? _he didn't say the words aloud, hadn't warned her that he was going to speak at all, and she jumped.

_Doctor?_

_Right here. _

He felt confusion and bright colors whizzed by, golden in the main, but overlaying pink, blue, brown, and white. _I thought it would hurt, _she whispered in her mind.

_You–and you let me in anyway? _Instantly, he wrapped her in as much warmth and love as he could muster, pulling Rose's mind close to his own and _showing _her how much he loved her. Letting her feel how she meant everything to him, even opening up his own tangle of emotions and pain for Rose to nestle into–into safety.

_I thought you had to, _she explained. _I knew you wouldn't be like him, but I thought it was _supposed _to hurt._

_Oh, no. Not this. Not you and I. Not ever, _he promised her.

_All right._ But he could feel her relax into his embrace, both physically and mentally. Gold lurked around the edges of his mind's "vision," but so far it hadn't struck at him–and he could feel the power of the Vortex, the TARDIS, and Time all rolled into one as it suddenly relaxed. Accepted him. Embraced him.

Rose gasped aloud even as the Doctor let out a soft "Ooohh…that's different."

_Different?_ She was getting the hang of it, and he let her feel the surge of pride he felt.

_Oh, yes. _Look_, Rose. That's not just the Vortex, and it's no longer really the TARDIS–or, not a piece of the TARDIS she'd recognize as herself, anyway. It's actual, real _Time_ living inside of you, holding you and keeping you safe. I always wondered how you were able to jump across so many universes without being hurt, but now I understand._

Rose hesitated, and her voice was quiet and frightened when she thought: _I…I can't see it._

She didn't have to tell him that it was because she didn't want to see more futures, more possibilities; the Doctor could feel that. _C'mere, _he whispered in her mind, giving her the equivalent of a set of arms to walk into. She did without hesitation, the same way he had offered the embrace.

The offer had come without thought, just as had her acceptance of his essence wrapping around her. Even the Doctor didn't quite realize what he was doing until he had done so–not until the lonely emptiness inside him flared up and desperately reached for her. Something inside Rose _answered_ then, and they were suddenly intertwined and inseparable, riding out the storm and the scars of the Doctor's battered and isolated soul.

_This isn't supposed to be for me!_ he objected furiously, trying to beat down the surge of need.

_That doesn't matter, _Rose answered–even though he hadn't wanted for her to hear that. _It's for both of us._

She was as open to him as he was to her, and the Doctor could see her soul as plainly as she did his. _No secrets, _Rose had said, and suddenly there were none. A connection that had always been waiting below the surface for discovery blossomed into life, wrapping into both of them and tying the two together. His Time Lord mind recognized the possibility immediately for what it was, and before the Doctor could stop himself, it was offering Rose a bond that she couldn't possibly feel, let alone recognize for what it was–

And she accepted it, plain and simple, as if she had been waiting all of her life for such an offer.

_Rose–you shouldn't–_

_Too late. _And her warmth brushed his mind, making the Doctor shiver. The emptiness within him was fading–still there, but the silence in his mind was no longer screaming. Now it was quiet. _I love you, remember?_

_This is– _He couldn't finish.

_I know. _Of course, she didn't, not in words, but something inside her knew. The knowledge did not come from _Time_; this was just Rose, knowing and loving him.

She was quite possibly the first person he'd ever met who loved him for _everything _he was, even having seen the worst he could become.

Forcing himself to focus, the Doctor turned his attention back to the golden Vortex in her mind, to the bit of Time itself Rose was carrying around inside her. Such a thing shouldn't have been possible–even a tiny slice of _Time_ should never have been trapped inside a host, never should have been able to. The oldest and most powerful amongst Time Lords would never have been able to withstand the pressure of holding true Time within their minds, and yet here Rose was: living, breathing, and feeling.

She was still human; there was no doubt about that. Every bit of her was human–except this wonderful, beautiful mind that was opening up before him. It was a mind that had been growing over the years, using portions and back doors that humans would _never _understand, not ever in the entirety of their history…except Rose.

The visions were Time's way of showing her what it had done for her. They'd stop now that Rose understood what Time would do, if necessary. How Time would keep her safe–safe for what?

_You're the last of the Time Lords, _Rose pointed out. She'd been quietly following his line of reasoning, watching him discover and seeing it through his eyes. Just as he'd intended her to do when he'd opened himself up to her, though it was still strange to feel someone use that link, because it was a connection that even he had never dared before.

_What's that have to do with anything?_

_I think…I think that there must always be someone. Someone who stands and fights and is willing to make the hard choices. To do the right thing. _For a moment, he could see an outline of Rose in his mind's eye, her eyes and body glowing with golden light. _Time has chosen you. Aren't you Time's Champion?_

_It's been a long time since I was called that._

_Doesn't mean it's less true, _she pointed out. _Time needs her champion, so she and the TARDIS, they made a deal. They'd stand by you, keep you safe–and I guess I got in the middle of that, by accident. Maybe I convinced Time that you shouldn't have to do it alone._

The Doctor took a shuddering breath. Every word rang frighteningly true. _That means–_

_I'm not a Time Lord. Won't ever be,_ Rose replied. _But there's a bit of Time in me, and a bit of me in Time. I'll be here for as long as you want me._

He opened his eyes, and found her looking straight into his. The gold was there, buried deep in flecks among the brown, just close enough to the surface to catch if he looked hard enough.

"Forever," the Doctor whispered aloud. And he kissed her.

-----------

* * *

Author's Note: Sorta fluffy, here and there. But fluff with purpose, no less, so I don't feel so guilty—though I do apologize to the folks who are used to me and darker stories. A small reference to the original series and novels, but nothing spoilerish (aside from the sheer existence of the Valeyard, of course!). Stay tuned for the epilogue, and please review!


	9. Epilogue: Full Circle

**Full Circle**

**Epilogue: Full Circle**

He never have employed this kind of power, but he couldn't help himself.

Forgotten by Time Lords millennia in the past, the Doctor had inadvertently discovered _this _use of the Vortex (of Time itself) during the Time War, had learned how to destroy and erase, how to turn the Time Vortex against anything in creation, even itself. Intellectually, he _knew _better–but the Bad Wolf was such an amazing source of power. The Vortex Rose Tyler had once so innocently drawn into herself was now light and power and control in his hands. It fought him, but confronted by his own power, the Vortex gave in.

Wind whipped wildly; he'd not thought it would be this strong. She was screaming and the room around them was going golden, but the Valeyard hardly noticed.

Simple human protests were unimportant. His hands were steady and his thoughts were clear as he reached for her mind. A few simple adjustments, and Rose would be his, his alone.

Had someone asked him an hour ago if he wanted her with him, the Valeyard would have shrugged. However, a sudden surge of possessiveness had seized him when she'd turned to leave. As unexpected as it was frightening, the simple _need _was inescapable, and he could not bear the thought of traveling the stars without Rose in his TARDIS.

He didn't care if she was willing. The Valeyard just needed her by his side.

The power in her was rising, but so was his. He hardly noticed the wind growing stronger and stronger, just concentrated on _pushing _into her mind and cementing his hold upon her. The Bad Wolf made it difficult, but if he could tweak that power just enough–

A warning ticked at the edge of his consciousness. Even a full Time Lord would be nearly overpowered by what he was controlling, but the Valeyard couldn't care. Sudden, _different,_ power rose to meet him, and he reached out for that, too, greedy to breathe in everything he–

The world shook. Universes trembled. Time held her breath and waited–the moment held forever, forever of a type even a mostly-Time Lord could not comprehend. _I'm doing it. I'm winning. This is _my _moment!_

Something tore Rose from his hands.

_Someone._

A hand–the left one, not the one they had in common–planted on his chest and pushed. Time collapsed into a tunnel around them, and suddenly the Valeyard was looking into the cold brown eyes of a man physically identical to himself, but oh so different in the end. This was a full Time Lord, in body and mind, the rebel who'd _actually _discovered the ancient and genetic link to the Vortex, the man who could have easily set himself up as a god if ever he felt the inclination.

Power tore from his hands; the golden light whirled around and suddenly turned _against _the Valeyard: the Bad Wolf joined with the Doctor, no longer frightened. No longer cowed. Rose didn't know yet, but she would.

The Valeyard looked into the storm and fled. Stumbled backwards, never daring to take his eyes off of the original–_weaker!_–self. Groping blindly, his hands found his unfinished TARDIS, and he fell backwards into her as the Doctor releasedthe power the Valeyard had gathered to himself, letting it rush forward with deadly suddenness.

"One warning," the other said softly, his face dark. "That's all you get."

The tunnel collapsed; their isolation from normal time ceased. The whirlwind was going wild; the Doctor turning and running from the room without so much as a backward look, his _right _hand tight in Rose's left. She'd not noticed the exchange, couldn't have; time for her had never slowed. He only had moments to act–probably less than two-and-a-quarter seconds–so the Valeyard threw caution and forethought to the wind. Instinct guided his hands to the console, and they flew over the mostly-finished controls.

Power had ignited something. The room outside his TARDIS was collapsing in on itself and expanding at the same time: a classic case of a time-warped-bomb in the making. The Valeyard hardly had time to blink–

The room exploded, but his TARDIS was already dematerializing, with him clinging to the console and hoping that the atmospheric field would hold long enough to find the Time Vortex.

Time was meaningless in the Vortex. Day and night weren't merely indistinguishable; they simple did not exist, especially for a Time Lord. He supposed the feeling was much like how a lesser species felt at sea, with currents breaking around him and waves moving rhythmically from one direction to the other.

There'd hardly been time to think, at first. His first priority had been to put some doors up, which eased the TARDIS' constant effort to keep the Vortex out and the atmosphere in. She was fighting valiantly (and angrily), his TARDIS, furious that they'd both been cheated of something special and unique–though she hadn't much liked Rose for reasons she felt necessary to keep to herself. After that, he'd set to work on the navigation systems, leaving habitation for last–what need did he have for rest, or for places for companions to sleep? The labyrinth of rooms in the Doctor's TARDIS was superfluous, necessary only to impress others.

Of course, he'd have to stock the library at one point or another, but that was another worry. He had plenty of time to do so, because he certainly wasn't going to settle for the limits of a human's lifespan. Oh, no. There was plenty of technology to extend _this _body's years, and beyond that he had other ideas. And all of the necessary time to employ them, bit by bit.

Still, he waited until the control room looked presentable before placing the call. There was no need to show how very close his TARDIS had come to _not _surviving that perilous first ride through the Time Vortex.

"Hello, Doctor," he said with a slight smile, watching the other look frantically–enviously–around his TARDIS. Well, he'd probably been expecting a bit of a mess, and probably an old Type 40, too. But the Valeyard had no need to cling to outdated pieces of machinery; he'd built the most updated type he could, and planned on upgrading her in the very near future. "I expect you're wondering exactly how long it has been since you abandoned me in this universe."

_I expect you're wondering how long it took me to fix her, or how I actually managed to escape your half-hearted attempt to kill me._

"Um…yeah. Something like that," the other responded nervously. _Enter his tendency to babble: _"Certainly wondering, anyway. Always wondering, me."

"I do believe that I will leave you to wonder about that one, my dear Doctor," he replied, feeling a bit nasty. No use in giving all his secrets away, after all.

"Oh, but where's the fun in that? There's no adventure if you don't even give me a hint," the Doctor retorted, clearly trying to buy time.

His shirt was wet–Rassilon only knew what the Doctor had been up to this time. Probably off creating trouble and fixing things that didn't need fixing. Probably with–_Don't think about that_. Inexplicable fury lay that way, and he wanted to enjoy this. Not let the other think he was winning.

"I'm not looking for adventure," he said softly, a stark contrast with the 'original' model, always looking for so-called adventure. "I am only seeking to acquire what is rightfully mine."

_Oh, that struck home._ "And what…exactly is that?"

"My life, Doctor," he snapped. If his anger showed, so much the better. _Consider this a warning, Doctor._ "The one you took from me by dumping me in another universe, to be looked after and _fixed _like some broken toy. You simply assumed, as you always do, that you knew best, and that everything would turn out _exactly _as you envisioned it."

"I–"

Of course he was going to rationalize. _He _always did. The Valeyard smiled. "But I've settled things here. You need not worry. Your–"

_Click._

"–hopes that my TARDIS…" he trailed off, slightly puzzled. Whatever had made the Doctor do _that_? He was never one to give up on a taunting call ike this. Usually, he'd be the one to spend hours trying to convince the Valeyard to give it up, to not lead the life they both knew he'd lead. But he'd _hung up_. How weak and cowardly.

After a moment, the Valeyard shook off the surprise with a shrug. He'd see the Doctor soon enough, even if it wouldn't be _this _Doctor–first, he had to get through the annoying know-it-all and the pretty boy. He had to play the part, even though he knew the end of _those _stories…and he didn't exactly regret _either _role he'd played in the destruction of the Time Lords and Gallifrey. In fact, he was rather proud of both: as the Valeyard, he'd soon push the Time War into existence and the Doctor into Dalek hands; as the Doctor, he'd already done the final deed and obliterated his home and his people in fire.

Now to find out exactly how a time-lock reacted when encountered with a Time Lord who didn't care what destruction he caused to the fabric of time itself.

**FINIS.**

Author's Note: Here's the end, though I'm contemplating a sequel, part of which is written. It's titled "Anchors," in which the Valeyard decides to tear the Doctor's world apart one piece at a time. However, it's on hold for my newest story "War By the Numbers," a saga of the Time War involving Doctors Eight, Nine, Ten, _and _Eleven. Check it out on my Author page—the first part is posted today.


End file.
